


Pink Sugar

by RockSaltandCherryPie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dry Humping, M/M, Weecest, Wincest - Freeform, dub-con???, smell kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-31
Updated: 2015-07-31
Packaged: 2018-04-12 06:46:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4469342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RockSaltandCherryPie/pseuds/RockSaltandCherryPie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam smells sweet</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pink Sugar

**Author's Note:**

> This is completely and wholly inspired by a body cream that I got from [SV Soaps](https://www.etsy.com/shop/svsoaps) and it's called _Pink Sugar_. I honestly just wanna eat my limbs every time I put it on. And then I pictured it on a 13-year-old Sammy.
> 
> Shameless smut while I'm in the midst of ch 5 of BTP, there you go. Enjoy.  
> [ And I first person'd cause it's my fave and I haven't done it in years. ]

So there's this fucking soap. Or shampoo. Or perfume or some shit. Honestly I have no idea what it is. But it smells like pure sugar. Sweet like you wouldn't believe. So sweet, as soon as I smell it, it's like I can feel my teeth aching. And my little brother wears it all the goddamn time. And it's always at night when we're lying next to each other ‘cause we're forced to share a bed for a month and I swear, I'm almost at my breaking point.

It's gotta be pink. Whatever it is, shampoo, soap, whatever, it's gotta be pink. And it's so girly, too. Not fruity. More like candy. Like a little girl's sticky fingers. Definitely not a scent for a boy. All those summer days spent taking Sam out for ice cream after he'd been good; after he did what Dad said and Dad just wanted the house to himself for a little while so he could have some peace and quiet, the kind he needed for research.

There was no possibility Sam had a girlfriend. He was still a dork, lanky arms and legs that any chick would take a look at and think "maybe I can get him to do my homework for me." So that ruled out the perfume thing. Unless he bought it himself which was highly unlikely. Sam wasn't _that_ much of a creep.

It had been three nights so far. I hadn't said anything because at first... I don't know, I just thought it was like, an accident that Sam smelt so good. But now it's too much. Too intentional. And I wasn't prepared to sleep next to him _another_ night and to let the scent keep waking me up every time Sam turned and I got a whiff.

So we're lying in bed on a Wednesday night, Dad's in the other room still up, working on something. Always working. But we shut our door so that the light doesn't disturb us. It's annoying as fuck, sleeping in one bed, but I know it has to be this way. The shabby little hole we're squatting in is only a two-bedroom, and we got the one that's so small only one bed could fit in it. Anyway, it's only temporary. And it's a hell of a lot better than sleeping in some dark alley somewhere with a gun in your right pocket. 'Course, here it was under your pillow, but at least we had pillows to put them under. You get it.

Sam smells like he's drenched in the goddamn stuff, whatever the hell it is. He just got out of the shower not too long ago, but as soon as he came crawling over the bed next to me the aroma wafted over and I rolled my eyes.

So he's just lying there, all smug and candied, and I don't know why but I picture him eating a candy apple. No, that's not quite right. Cotton candy? Nah, not entirely. A lollipop. Cotton candy flavored. Yeah. At least this way I can close my eyes and the scent has a goddamn _purpose._

When I speak aloud finally, it seems like much less of a big deal than it was in my head.

"What smells like candy?"

We're lying on top of the covers, it's a warm enough night to not need any. Sam jerks a little, bringing his hand up to smell himself. As soon as I see him do that instinct takes over and I grab his hand. We're not averse to touching. Do it all the time actually. Dad makes us spar five times a week for the past five or six years, I pretty much know every crevice of little Sammy's body as well as I know my own.

I bring his hand up to my face and oh my _god._ I almost start salivating on the spot. It's like a creamy milky sugar, something artificially flavored, something that melts in your mouth. And holy crap do I want it to melt in my mouth.

"Yeah, that," I say, feigning composure. "What the hell is it?" I fling his arm away.

Sam laughs. Laughs like a fucking little imp with pink cheeks and pink knees and pink, bony fingers. "It's cream."

Cream! That's what it was! God now I feel stupid for not thinking of that sooner. "Well, it's really distracting. Why are you wearing it?" _Distracting? What the fuck._

Giggles bubble out of Sam again. "I put it on after I shower. It's just so my skin doesn't dry out. The sun makes it all peely." He rubs at his arms and kicks his knees around, acting all squirmy and young. Well, he was young. Thirteen still qualifies as kid-age, even if you had grown like four inches in the past year and your arms weren't as flimsy as they were two years ago.

"You smell like a fucking lollipop. Where'd you get it anyway?"

He shrugs. "Grocery store."

It really had no relevance at all where he got the damn cream, I don't know why I was even asking him that. I guess to distract me from the fact that I was _sweating_ all over. I mean how could he not realize what it was doing to me? I was losing sleep for God's sake!

Sam sighs, pushing himself up. "Fine, I'll wash it off if it's annoying you that much."

And really, that should be the best fucking news I've heard all week but the thought of not smelling it anymore doesn't make me glad, it makes me pissed.

"No!" I exclaim, tugging Sam and his t-shirt back. He makes a face but then falls back on the pillow.

"I thought it was _distracting,_ " Sam says, almost pleased with himself.

I huff. "It _is..._ But I like it." And the truth comes out apparently.

I don't glance over but I could tell Sam is smiling. He flings his arm at me and it hits my nose. " _You like it?"_ He teases. Little jerk.

But the scent is too strong to not succumb to it's sweet, sweet sin. I grab ahold of Sam's arm and start exaggeratedly inhaling. It may as well be a drug. Sam cracks up. I push up closer and hold his hand, sticky from sweat but it's like the sweetness is pouring out of him and I bring his knuckles to my cheek and bask in it.

"Smell like a fucking chick," and that's when I realize my nose is apparently hot-wired to my, _well, southern region_ because it gives a twitch, practically begging for attention. If there was ever a time to stop, it would have been now. But Sam just giggles and pretends to want his arm back and _goddamn_ he's in his playful mood and I've never been one to ignore my little brother's playful mood.

"You wanna _eat me?_ " He says, still smiling devilishly. Truth is, nobody knows this side of Sam. Nobody except me. To everyone else he's just this brilliant kid with like acres of potential, mature for his age, wins a lot of soccer games for his team. Y'know, gonna grow up and be like, the next president of the United States. But for me, he's all that, sure, but he's also this smiley force of pure childlike innocence, and when he's energized he's a spark ignited. Dangerous but oh so pretty. He just makes you wanna stare in awe. It's quite something.

I make exaggerated munching noises as I come over him instinctively, biting my way up his arm to his neck. He must've spread the thing all over his body, because even in the crevice of his shoulder it smells like sugar-coated gumdrops. Pure and juvenile. Like Sam is just _meant_ to smell like this, always.

Sam's laughter cracks all over the place when I bite at his neck. He twists his body around, squirming under me. We play-struggle, just like we do when we spar only pretend, and he whines my name.

"Too bad, you're all mine. And you're gonna taste _good._ " I push him down, thrusting into his wriggling body, the heat between us rising. The heady scent overwhelms me, flooding in through my nose and debilitating my will to protest these ridiculously strange sexual impulses.

"No!" He squeals, writhing around underneath me, his hips bumping my groin and sending shock waves all the way down to my toes.

I groan, completely intoxicated, and hold him still by pressing my body down on him. He still fights it, which is the cutest damn thing in the world. I'm bigger than him. He hasn't got a chance. I shove my nose into sweaty sticky hair and growl, and instead of laughing or squealing he _whimpers,_ just a small little high-pitched strained noise that's broken off at the end and it makes my whole body quake with need and _want_.

I hold him, and grind my shaking body against his. My breath becomes labored, heavy wheezes in his ear. He clutches on to me, my shirt, and tenses up in my hold. He doesn't try to fight it anymore.

"Smell so fucking good," I mutter through my teeth.

He lets out a little mewl and digs his fingers into my arm. He's all squished under me, I'm crushing him, but I can't get enough of him.

I thrust my hips up and back down against him, pressing in so hard that I can feel the fabric of my boxers chaffing the sensitive spots at the tip of my erection. I can't help it, I'm high off pink sunshine, my tongue can taste the sugar-coated skin between my teeth, I'm electrically charged by the nectar Sam is dripping all over me, I can feel it, it's hot and good and explosive and it's more than enough to get me over the edge.

I chase the orgasm rippling up and consuming me like something organic and primal, squeezing Sam half to death in the process. Just a few more rubs against that sensitive tip, just a few... _oh god..._ one more and I'm coming the hardest I've ever come in my life, erupting warm, messy come all over the inside of my shorts and practically convulsing with every contraction.

I feel Sam's little fingers still digging in and my whole body slowly begins to loosen, tension drifting away in between twitches. His neck, arched and exposing his throat, starts to straighten as I remove my face from it.

Before my come has time to seep through two layers I roll off of him, chest heavy and thick.

Sam just lays there.

I can barely catch my breath. Coming down from the high was the worst part. Cause you start to feel like crap and if you were stupid enough to have dragged someone else with you on along the way, you just start to feel like a guilty douchebag.

"I'm sorry," I say before it's too late. "That was... I don't know what—"

"It's okay," he says simply. Casually. I can even detect complacency.

"Okay, goodnight." I try and sound as together as Sam does and hope he falls for it. It's ridiculous that that's all I can think of saying right now but Sam doesn't seem to mind. He turns on his side like this is just another ordinary night between the two of us. It's extremely comforting. Even if it's intentional. I make an impressed-relieved face even though nobody can see it and make a mental note to go change my boxers once Sam's asleep.

What an awesome little brother I've got.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments = love


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